Time After Time
by TheTribute
Summary: "Able to see the real world now, he looked down at his wrists. They were in restraints, attached to a hospital bed. His ankles were shackled, too. He looked up at the white room, fully equipped with medical devices and high-tech computers. The Capitol." This is my version of Peeta's capture and torture at the Capitol. Spoilers for Mockingjay!
1. Prologue

Time After Time

A Hunger Games Fan Fiction

The account of Peeta's torture in the Capital

**Hi! This is my first fanfiction, although I've written stories in the past. I'm kind of nervous, but I hope you think it's okay!**

**I don't own The Hunger Games or any other story I write about.**

Prologue

_It's a trap. They took her. But where is she now?_

_Footsteps begin to crash through the trees, coming towards him. His head swivels around, heart beating fast._

_What's going on? Where are his allies? And most importantly, where is she?_

_He begins to run, searching for her. His metal leg crashes against the jungle leaves, his footsteps loud and uneven. Behind him, his enemies are even louder, their growling and hunger for his death reaching through the trees, threatening to bring him down. But he won't let that happen. Not yet at least._

"_Katniss!" he calls, not caring that they can hear him. They already know where he is. All he cares about is where she is, and whether she's okay._

"_Katniss!" he screams again, stumbling. Where is she? What did they do to her?_

_Then he remembers the cannon blow from minutes before. His breathing is rapid now, and his head light with worry. Who was it for? Did they already get to her?_

"_Peeta!" A frantic voice cuts through the trees, crying out to him. He pauses, listening. Could it be . . . "Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!" she screams._

"_Katniss," he whispers quietly to himself. He immediately races in the direction of her calls, not stopping to wonder why she was drawing attention to herself._

"_I'm here! I'm here!" she screams again. Yes, she's alive._

_Suddenly, the grunting behind him becomes painfully close. He dives behind a bush and watches as they race past him, heading instead in the direction towards the lightning tree, where Katniss's voice was coming from. No . . ._

"_Peeta!" _

_He gets back up again, but can feel the slowness of his pace. He won't make it. But he can try._

_Enobaria and Finnick reach the tree. Another cannon goes off. _

_He groans in frustration and howls, "Katniss!" What is she waiting for?_

_It can only be seconds now until the lightning strikes. He pauses, seeing a glint of gold near the tree. His mind begins to spin. What did it mean?_

_He takes a step forward, but stops again, spotting a head in the jungle leaves. Her body begins to come out, rising to a full stand, blood dripping down her arm. She raises her bow, the arrow notched, a gold strand trailing from it._

_He's walking at a slow pace now, his face turned up towards her, entranced. Her arrow isn't pointed at Enobaria, so what is she aiming for? Suddenly, he realizes what the gold strand is. Wire. And it's aiming for the force field. _

_Before his mind can react, the arrow is flying through the air, weaving it's way through an invisible target. He can only open his mouth before the world explodes around him._

**I hope you liked my prologue! I'll try to put in chapter 1 as soon as I can, but a warning: I'm not very good at doing things as soon as I can. :)**

**I appreciate reviews and feedback!**


	2. Chapter 1

**I got my first review! I was so stoked and beyond excited! Seriously, I haven't been that happy in a long time. Thank you so much! I just hope other people review, too! Here's Chapter 1.**

**I don't own The Hunger Games.**

Chapter 1

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go. After his long, groggy, and delusional sleep, the light seemed much too bright through his eyelids. A vaguely familiar smell wafted in through his nose, and he peeked one eye open to see the mysterious environment he had been dropped into. The bright colors seared his eye again and he shut it, but not before it had triggered something in his brain.

He cried out as an explosion swept through his mind. An arrow flew across his closed vision, and a hovercraft appeared above him, reaching out its arms as far as they could go, scooping its claws underneath his useless body . . .

"Katniss," he whispered, and jumped into action. He became fully alive, thrashing and screaming out, doing all he could to free himself from this terrible prison. Voices started coming for him, calling for the aid of others.

Peeta opened his eyes and stopped fighting. Able to see the real world now, he looked down at his wrists. They were in restraints, attached to a hospital bed. His ankles were shackled, too. He looked up at the white room, fully equipped with medical devices and high-tech computers.

_The Capitol_.

His breathing became restricted, his heart working overtime and the blood rushing to his head. They had captured him, and who knew who else? He was panicking, and tried to force air back through his closed windpipe. Frantic footsteps pounded closer to his room, structure to the voices he had heard a second ago, the evil beings of the Capitol, the ears that had received his scream.

They burst into his room, but he was no longer calling out. His screams had been reduced to a halfhearted moan. Seeing he had calmed, the Capitol nurses checked over him and filed out of the room, leaving only two to look after him. One laid a hand on his shoulder, sending shivers through his body and the urge to shake it off.

"Peeta," she said carefully. "There's no need to worry. There was a slight . . . mishap in the arena. But it's fine now. You're safe here."

Peeta narrowed his eyes. By the look on her face, he could tell it was more than just a little mishap. But he didn't need her to tell him that. He remembered. Even more so, that he would never be safe in their hands.

"Katniss," he spoke, his voice dry and hoarse. "Where - where is she? What happened?"

The nurses glanced warily at each other. Their status wasn't important enough to know the details, but they clearly weren't supposed to talk about it either way.

One looked down with pity and a tight smile. She believed in their love. "There's no need to worry about little things like that. The Capitol has everything under control. As always," she added.

"Katniss," Peeta demanded. "Where is she?"

The nurse stepped away from the bed, done with the conversation. "You must be hungry. Your food will be coming soon."

"Where is she?" he repeated, his voice rising. "Where is Katniss?"

Receiving no answer, he began to thrash around, struggling against his restraints. He knew it was unlike him, but he couldn't help it. He had to know.

His defiant yells were silenced by a prick in his arm.

"Sleep tight, dear."

He faded into darkness once again.

**I hope you liked the first chapter! I'll try to keep it coming!**

**Please comment and review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**I feel like it took me awhile to update, but maybe that's just me. This chapter is a little slow and short, but I couldn't make it _too_ interesting in the beginning! ;) Also, thank you to those of you who reviewed or added me to one of your "lists." You know who you are!**

**I don't own The Hunger Games.**

Chapter 2

When Peeta awoke the second time, he felt rejuvenated and fully aware. The light had returned back to normal, and his eyesight was clear and acute as it observed the new room he had been put in. Slightly more comfortable and happy, they seemed to have put a lot of effort into making him feel "at home," along with removing his restraints. The room didn't seem to be part of the hospital, but he still had medicine dripping into his arm. He struggled to sit up and concentrate, and a sweet smell passed under his nose.

He glanced over at the nightstand, where a steaming tray sat.

Soup.

Sighing, he shrugged and picked up the small serving, sipping at it carefully. He'd just have to assume it wasn't poisoned.

Then almost as though they had been watching to see when he woke - which of course they were - a nurse shoved open the door and walked stiffly in, eyeing him carefully. She was followed by another lady, whose small feet pattered over to check his vitals.

Peeta looked up and examined the nurse. She was different than the last one, whose gaze hadn't been as sharp. It seemed that the Capitol didn't think their choice through; a friendly person might have made him feel better.

But then again, they probably knew he couldn't be tricked.

"Peeta Mellark." Her voice was just as unpleasant as that tight bun perched on the top of her head.

"Yes?" Peeta spoke slowly.

"The President would like to know how you are feeling. Are you well enough to walk?"

"Gee, I don't know. I haven't really been given time or permission to do anything." He paused, a spark of anger lighting in his chest. "Why doesn't he ask me himself?"

The nurse glared at him. "He will, in time. But for now, you are to rest and become well again. It is important that you are in full health."

"Why, so he can slaughter me like a pig? Place me in an arena and feed me to the mutts? Oh wait, he's already done that. _Twice_. My bad." His face was hot, but his words were ice cold. She didn't deserve the melted butter he usually gave. None of them did.

"The President will meet with you tomorrow. Be ready." She turned neatly on her heel and exited the door in a uniform fashion. With one last nervous glance back, the smaller nurse gathered her instruments and scampered after her, slamming the door.

Peeta set his empty bowl on the side table and laid down, closing his eyes. His stomach churned with discomfort, especially after that extensive use of words. Who knew what President Snow had in store for him the next day?

As he tried to relax, he couldn't help but think of that last night in the arena. It had all come back to him after his dreamless, drug induced sleep, and was driving him crazy. Why did Katniss send that arrow into the force field? It had blown up the whole arena! Surely she wouldn't mean to do that, but then again . . .

Peeta groaned and rubbed his eyes. Who was he kidding? Of course she knew what she was doing. Maybe it had been her plan all along. She had meant to die anyway, so why not feed the rebellion while she was at it? Just one more thing she hadn't told him.

He suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. _What if she really had died? _he thought. It would have been better than capture, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. Of him surviving while she had perished.

Then a new thought crossed his mind. What if she _had_ been captured? She could be going through torture at that very moment!

Peeta clutched his head, grabbing at his hair to remain sane. No. He wouldn't let that happen. Even though there had been no way out of the arena, Katniss was too strong to allow capture. He could only hope that she was dead.

Weariness took over his body once again, and his hands dropped to his sides. He forced his breathing back to normal and focused on his heartbeat, making its loud way up to his head. They would give him his answers, no matter what he had to do to get them.

He'd just have to wait until tomorrow.

**I'll try to make the next chapter a little longer and more interesting, but I hope you liked this one!**

**Thanks so much for reading! ****I appreciate all comments!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hi! I've finally updated after... how long? I went on a month long vacation and started school early, so I haven't had much time, but enough with the excuses! I finally motivated myself, so here's the next chapter.**

**Sadly, I don't own Peeta or any of the other original characters. If I did, I'd slaughter Snow myself. But that's unethical...**

Chapter 3

"This way," said one of the guards as they led Peeta down the hall.

The Peacekeepers had entered his room only minutes ago, coming to collect him for his appointment with the President, saying that he only wanted to talk. Nonetheless, Peeta's hands were soaking wet, and he wiped them on one of the many pairs of pants they had granted him. Forcing himself to be at ease, he walked through the halls flanked by guards on both sides.

They led him to large set of fancy double doors. "Stop."

"You may enter," called out a familiar voice from the room, sending chills down Peeta's back. He'd hoped never to hear that voice again. He took a deep breath. _Just think of Katniss_. Pushing the doors open, he walked in.

The sight made him stop in his tracks. The room was full of roses, in every available space, leading out onto a balcony. In the center of the room was a single desk, one of its two chairs occupied, where the one and only President Snow remained sitting. Snake lips pursed and hands folded on the table's surface, his accusing eyes bored into Peeta. And of course, a white rose was pinned onto his lapel. It was always that deadly white rose.

"Hello, Peeta," he said, his thin lips forming into a cruel smile. "Come." He motioned to the chair. "Sit down."

Peeta walked slowly over to the chair, eyeing the President warily as he sat down. "Where is Katniss?"

Snow motioned to the guards. "Let us be," he commanded, and the doors shut.

"Where is Katniss?" Peeta repeated, more forcefully this time.

"Ah, yes. Katniss. I know you love each other very much." He paused, looking Peeta over. "You will be happy to know she is alive, although not in our possession."

"Possession? She's a person, not an object," Peeta managed to get out. He released the breath he had been holding, his mind racing. She was safe.

Snow cleared his throat. "Excuse me for my word choice then," he spoke coldly.

"What happened to her?"

He leaned forward. "You see, Peeta, you and Katniss have started a rebellion. The heart of it lies in District 13."

"District 13?" Peeta interrupted. "But they were destroyed."

"Yes, most of it was, but they had the ability to rebuild themselves. We let them remain, unknown and on their own, and in exchange, they would stay out of Capitol business. They were expected to die out, but they managed to stay alive. And now, they host the majority of the rebels in this war."

"But . . . what does that have to do with her?"

"Those in 13 had created a plan to break out you, Katniss, and other select tributes from the arena. On that last night, after the explosion, they managed to rescue a few of the rebel tributes using their own fleet of hovercrafts. The rest – including you – remain with us."

Peeta looked down at his lap, silent. He wrinkled his brow, attempting to put together this information. "Who is at the Capitol?"

President Snow ignored the question. "Perhaps this footage of the games will give you a better understanding of what happened," he said, and pressed a button. A holographic screen popped up on the desk and began to play a video. Peeta recognized the setting of the arena.

The video showed them carrying out Beetee's plan and uncoiling the wire when all hell broke loose. He watched as Johanna stabbed Katniss, and ran off, yelling at her to stay down, and as Brutus killed Chaff, and he killed Brutus himself. He watched as he shouted Katniss's name, and she shouted his. He watched as she figured out what to with the wire, sending the arrow through the force field, and the entire arena exploding. He watched everything.

"And do you know what happened when that arrow sailed through the force field?" Snow asked, his voice soft. "Do you know?"

Peeta swallowed, his throat turned dry. Dread crept though his body as he stared at the blank screen.

"District 12 disappeared."

All the blood rushed to his head, and his eyes stung. He felt dizzy. District 12, his whole life . . . gone.

"Yes, Peeta. It was destroyed, all because of your girlfriend. We have reason to believe she was part of their plan all along."

"No she wasn't," he managed, anger building in his chest. "She didn't know what she was doing and she would have told me. She didn't know what that arrow would trigger and she didn't know about the rebellion!" His voice was rising. "She was just . . ." he trailed off.

"Pregnant and confused?" the President suggested.

Peeta sunk down in his chair, resisting his urge to strangle the president. He tried to steady his breathing, but he couldn't relax.

"But . . . perhaps she _was_ just a helpless girl, hormonal and confused. And in the case of a cease-fire, she would be forgiven." Snow proposed.

Peeta thought about it. If the Capitol won, she might be forgiven, or granted a second chance. Even if they were forced to watch the Hunger Games of the future, or worse, she could be kept safe. Even at the cost of his life.

_His dying wish . . ._

"What do you say?" asked Snow.

"Would you insure her protection?" His voice was hoarse.

"Of course. And just remember Peeta, the _rebels_ are the ones brainwashing her."

Peeta looked up at his cruel face. He didn't trust or believe him. He never would. But this could be more than just a glimmer of hope. He needed to keep her alive.

"It's a deal."

**Thanks for reading! And this time you shouldn't have to wait months for the next chapter! :)**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys. Wow, it's been forever. I must have been really busy or really lazy lately. Both, I guess. Sorry about that. I was in the mood to write today.**

**Since this chapter is about the interview, I used a lot of the dialouge from Mockingjay because I want it to be as factual as possible.**

**I don't own The Hunger Games.**

Chapter 4

Peeta sat still as his prep team did their finishing touches on him: combing his hair, putting on makeup for the cameras, and polishing his skin so he would look as perfect and healthy as possible. He drummed his fingers on the chair, thinking about what he would say tonight. No doubt Caesar would talk to him about what happened in the arena, and his thoughts about Katniss . . .

His heart hurt at the thought of her. He still wasn't entirely sure what had happened that last night. He didn't know if she had been a part of the rebel's plan. For now he had decided to think that she didn't know what she was doing. They could only trust each other, and she wouldn't have even thought of doing something so drastic without consulting him. At least, that's what he would tell the cameras. They might never know what he really thought.

Even Peeta didn't know what he really thought.

Portia, his stylist, walked in escorted by two Peacekeepers. She gave him a tight smile. "They're ready for you, Peeta."

Peeta stood up and took a deep breath, trying to appear as calm as he could. He nodded kindly to Portia and exited the room, followed closely by the guards. He was very aware of their presence, and knew if he made the slightest attempt to run, they wouldn't hesitate to hurt him.

The guards led him down the hallway and into a large room set up for an interview. Lights and cameras were positioned, casting down on the center of the room, where two cushioned chairs sat face to face. Peeta wasn't surprised when he saw Caesar Flickerman occupying one of them, fully decked out in his usual sparkling suit and colored hair.

"Why hello, Mr. Mellark!" Caesar boomed. He stood and shook Peeta's hand. "It's nice to see you again, although I must say, the circumstances never seem to be good."

Peeta nodded. "Hello, Caesar."

Caesar smiled and motioned to the chair. "Please, sit."

He took a seat, looking relaxed but not too comfortable. He was here for business, not a friendly chat. One of the camera men counted down on his fingers. "We're on in five, four, three, two . . ."

Caesar settled down in his seat and looked at Peeta, like he was trying to decide what to say. "So . . . Peeta . . . welcome back."

Peeta smiled. "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."

"I confess, I did. The night before the Quarter Quell . . . well, who ever thought we'd see you again," said Caesar.

"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure."

Caesar leaned forward. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive."

Peeta looked down at the arms of his chair. His child . . . just one more lie for the Capitol. But the fact that he meant to give his life for Katniss's . . . that wasn't. "That was it. Clear and simple. But other people had plans as well."

Caesar was quiet for a moment, waiting to see if he would add to his comment. He didn't. "Why don't you tell us about that last night in the arena? Help us sort a few things out."

Peeta nodded slowly, accepting the suggestion. He didn't want to talk about that night in the arena. He wanted to never think about it again. But he had to. "That last night . . . to tell you about that last night . . ." He searched for the words, recalling what had happened. "Well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in the arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, jungle . . . green and alive and ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour promising some hew horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died – some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan is that it won't be you."

He kept his voice steady, getting wrapped up in his own words. He painted a picture with them for Caesar, and the audience he knew was watching him. "Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant. All the people and things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist." _Except for one person: Katniss_, he thought to himself, but kept from saying it aloud. "The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."

"It costs your life," said Caesar.

"Oh, no," said Peeta. "It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are."

"_Everything you are_," Caesar whispered.

There came a hushed silence, and Peeta thought about what he had said to Katniss on the Capitol rooftop so long ago. He had told her that if he was going to die in the Games, he didn't want to die as a monster. He wanted to die as himself. But if killing those people costed everything you were . . . he wasn't sure if he'd upheld that wish. And breaking the spirit of the districts – that's what the Hunger Games were all about.

Peeta measured the silence, and could feel the awe of people listening to him. They had no idea what it was like to be a part of that, and they were finally really finding out for the first time.

"So you hold on to your wish," he continued. "And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss. But even without knowing about the rebels, it didn't feel right. Everything was too complicated. I found myself regretting I hadn't run off with her earlier in the day, as she had suggested. But there was not getting out of it at that point."

"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake," said Caesar.

"Too busy playing allies with the others," Peeta spit out. He could feel his anger building, the regret and pain of losing Katniss finally starting to get to him. "I should have never let them separate us! That's when I lost her."

"When you stayed at the lightning tree, and she and Johanna Mason took the coil of wire down to the water," Caesar confirmed.

"I didn't want to! But I couldn't argue with Beetee without indicating we were about to break away from the alliance. When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena . . . blew out." Peeta got quiet.

"Katniss blew it out," Caesar said softly. "You've seen the footage."

"She didn't know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee's plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire," he retorted.

"All right. It just looks suspicious," said Caesar. "As if she was part of the rebels' plan all along."

Peeta felt the anger in his chest, defensive, and his instinct to protect Katniss came over him. He jumped up and grabbed the arms of Caesar's chair, getting in the startled man's face. In that moment he decided that Katniss hadn't known what was happening, and he would do all he could to make the world believe that too. "Really? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her? For that electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing?" he shouted. "She didn't know Caesar! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!"

Caesar put his hands up, gently pressing on Peeta's chest. "Okay, Peeta, I believe you."

"Okay." Peeta stepped back. He took a deep, shaky breath and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get a hold of himself. He settled himself slowly in his chair, his heart still racing fast.

Caesar looked at him for a moment as Peeta studied the floor. "What about your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"

At the sound of Haymitch's name, he tasted a bitterness in his mouth. After what had happened in the arena, he resented Haymitch almost more than anyone else. "I don't know what Haymitch knew."

"Could he have been part of the conspiracy?" questioned Caesar.

"He never mentioned it."

"What does your heart tell you?" asked Caesar.

"That I shouldn't have trusted him," Peeta said bluntly. "That's all."

He sat as Caesar watched him carefully, his face filled with some sort of emotion – pity? He couldn't tell, but Caesar seemed to genuinely care how Peeta felt. He patted his shoulder. "We can stop now if you want."

Peeta looked at him, his face bitter. "Was there more to discuss?"

"I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset . . ." began Caesar.

"Oh, I'm not too upset to answer that." Peeta glanced around and found a camera lens. He stared straight into it. This was it. This was his opportunity to convince Panem to end this war, to do what Snow had told him. He would have to put all his power into his words, even with the possibility it wouldn't work. This was his only chance. He took a deep breath. He needed to do this for Katniss.

"I want everyone watching – whether you're on the Capitol or the rebel side – to stop for just a moment and think about what this war could mean. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one another before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what we want to do? Kill ourselves off completely in the hopes that – what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?" Peeta spoke to the camera, and maybe, just a tiny part of him, believed what he was saying, too.

"I don't really . . . I'm not sure I'm following . . ." trailed Caesar.

"We can't fight one another, Caesar," Peeta told him. "There won't be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons – and I mean, as in _very soon_ – it's all over, anyway."

"So . . . you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar asked.

"Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire." Peeta began to feel very weary. This interview was taking a lot out of him – especially since he knew a cease-fire would leave the districts in an even worse state than they were already in. "Now why don't we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses?"

Caesar nodded and looked towards the camera. "All right. I think that wraps it up. So back to our regularly scheduled programming."

"And we're out," said the camera man.

Peeta sighed and ran his fingers through his blond curls wearily. He knew he had done as well as he could for Snow, and that he had made his plan seem like the best one. But he didn't want to think what would happen. He just hoped it had been good enough for Katniss.

"Thank you, Peeta." Caesar smiled kindly. The two of them stood and shook hands. "I hope it works out well for all of us."

Peeta nodded and turned to the door, sighing. The guards were waiting to escort him back to his quarters. He joined them, his eyes drooping as he walked back. He would be too tired to build more card houses. Now he needed sleep.

**I hope you liked it! Please comment.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Wow, I'm actually updating within a week! I guess I've had a lot of inspiration lately. I've gotten a lot of ideas for other stories I might write, too. Hopefully I can start those soon. But here's the next chapter.**

**I don't own The Hunger Games.**

Chapter 5

Peeta wiped his hands on his pants, trying to get rid of the sweat that just kept building. He sat at a table in a small, dimly lit room that was gray at every angle. It had been days since his interview with Caesar when everyone in District 13 had branded him as a traitor, and he still hadn't heard anything from Snow or the Capitol.

Until now.

He had been cooped up in his room for hours and days on end with practically nothing to do but sit. After much persistence, they had at least given him a notebook and pencil to help pass the time. Peeta couldn't help but notice that they had been giving less food as well – a big change from the previous luxury of eating whatever he wanted. However, it wasn't something he couldn't adjust to. He had gone his whole childhood without much to eat, although he had been much better off than most others in his district.

Then thirty minutes ago they took Peeta from his own room and tossed him into this new one without any explanation. So he simply sat at the table and stared at the empty chair across from it, wondering who its occupant was supposed to be. A Peacekeeper? A doctor? His hands shook for a moment. A torturer?

The door swung open behind him as Peeta sat wondering, and even without turning he could tell who had entered the room. The sickly smell washed over him, and it was all he could do to keep the bile from rising in his throat. Sharp footsteps rapped against the floor as the visitor made its way across the room and into the opposite chair.

"Hello, Peeta," said President Snow. "Do you know why you're here?"

Peeta shook his head.

"Well," began Snow. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief and folded his hands on the table. "As you know, your interview with Caesar Flickerman aired recently. In it you spoke to the country of Panem and told them that the world would be better off if the war ended with a cease-fire. Peacefully. Yes?"

He nodded.

"Would you like to know the results of your efforts?" Snow asked.

Peeta stared at the table in front of him, silent. He didn't want to hear the answer; it could only bring bad news.

The President cleared his throat. "As you may already know, there have been many uprisings in District Eight, and now that we are at war, the area has become a warzone. Recently, the Capitol had sent a fleet of hovercrafts to attack and bomb the district."

"To wipe it out like you did District 12?" Peeta asked.

"No, not exactly," answered Snow. "If we wanted to completely wipe it out, we would have done it already. Fighting between us and the rebels has already taken place there, and we were simply taking out their . . . headquarters."

"Headquarters? How many healthy people can be left if you keep bombing them?"

"You see Peeta, they weren't defenseless this time. There were strong people there to fire back. People we weren't exactly expecting." Snow paused. "Do you know who some of those people were?"

"No," Peeta said quietly, but it was a lie. He had a pretty good idea who one of those rebels was.

"Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, and her handsome 'cousin' Gale Hawthorn," Snow told him.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. It didn't even occur to Peeta to ask what happened or even if she was okay. His mind just went blank, trying to think but not succeeding. He couldn't explain why.

"She brought rebels and camera crews with her, and made a little anti-Capitol promo," he continued. "It didn't show in the Capitol, but they hacked into the interface of many districts and aired it multiple times."

Suddenly the lights dimmed even more and the wall to Peeta's left lit up like a screen. A flaming mockingjay pin burned to life and filled the screen. Claudius Templesmith spoke, and Katniss appeared on screen, behind her a horrendous background of smoke and bombs: the remains of District 8. As she spoke, Peeta sat mesmerized, taking in every inch of her. She was surrounded by destruction, shouting at the cameras, but Peeta thought she had never looked more beautiful.

"_I want to tell the people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself,"_ she spoke as the footage showed the district's burning hospital. _"Because you know who they are and what they do."_

His heart sank. She was ruining the chance he had given her. They would give her no reprieve now, no redemption.

The promo continued on, showing the bombing, the wounded, and Katniss and Gale shooting attackers out of the sky. She kept up her speech about fighting the Capitol, and bringing them down. _"Fire is catching! And if we burn, you burn with us!" _The words burned on the screen, and faded back to darkness. The wall turned back to normal and the lights returned to their usual brightness.

Peeta continued to stare at the wall where she had appeared for just a few minutes, full of awe from the video. He had been able to see her, even if it was on a short promo and she wasn't in the best shape. And even though the video hadn't meant good news for either of them, he could barely contain his joy of seeing her alive and out of an arena.

When Peeta finally remembered how to speak, the words that came out of his mouth were, "You bombed a hospital?"

The President simply looked at him, ignoring his question. After the Capitol had created the Hunger Games, of course, no one could be surprised at anything terrible act they committed. "Why do you think I showed you that, Peeta? It wasn't to give you hope that your girlfriend is alive."

"Then . . . to make me hate you even more?" Peeta answered.

"To prove a point," Snow told him. "To show you that your words did not work, that your efforts were not good enough. That they might have even made things worse."

"I didn't ask to tell people we needed a cease-fire!" Peeta's retaliated.

"I'm not blaming you." Snow studied him. "But it seems that District 13 has turned Katniss into something a little more. She has made herself into a figure they call the Mockingjay. The face of the rebellion. This seems to have happened recently. Not too long after your interview with Caesar, in fact."

"It's not my fault. I didn't know anything about any of this," he tried to convince him.

President Snow stood and pushed his chair back. As he made his way over to the exit, the door opened and a guard walked in. He crossed the floor and stood near Peeta.

"We'll see about that," Snow responded. He gave a curt nod to the guard and walked out.

Peeta's heart began to race and he swiveled around to face the guard. His eyes grew wide just before the man raised his gun and brought it down upon his head. With a crack, his world went black.

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